


The Take Over

by LifeInWentworth



Category: Wentworth - Fandom
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:31:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeInWentworth/pseuds/LifeInWentworth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>PROMPT: It's been 6 months since Erica left Wentworth and the Freak has beaten Franky into submission both literally and figuratively. She's no longer top dog, the Freak has made sure of that. Bea has taken her place and left her broken. A tormented Franky feels she has nothing left until she receives a letter in the mail. It has passed the guard check, but it seems to be in code with no return address. Franky's just about to toss it when she sees a phrase that clues her in: I'm still hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Wentworth was a completely different place under Joan Ferguson. The women, or as she referred to them the cons spent a large part of their days in their units now. All of the hard work that Erica put in making Wentworth the progressive prison it was had gone to waste. Wentworth was no longer the face of prison rehabilitation. The prisoners were kicked when they were down, not always figuratively. She quickly received the nickname The Freak, and was proud of it, for her harsh punishments. Of course, one prisoner seemed to receive the brunt of the Freak, solely because she too wanted control of the prison.

Franky lay on her back and let out a grunt as foot found stomach again. She’d thought she could hold her own, always fancied herself a good fighter, but somehow the new governor always managed to be towering above her laying the boot in. It was certainly a far call from her meetings with Erica but she wasn’t the only prisoner missing the old governor. None of the women liked the Freak, but she didn’t seem to mind, fear was much more powerful than popularity in her books. 

“Are you okay?” Kim rushed into Franky’s cell once the governor had left, looking as smug and satisfied as usual. She bent down next to Franky who was curled into a ball on the floor.  
“I’m fine,” she lied through gritted teeth. She didn’t know how much more of this she could take. It had been nearly six months, she was hardly vying for the top dog position anymore, why wouldn’t that bitch just leave her alone? Surely she’d been made an example of by now.  
Kim pulled her up, putting her onto the bed and nursing her wounds the best she could, “This is bullshit,” she muttered.  
Franky shrugged.  
“What, you’re just going to take it?” Kim asked, she’d never seen the other woman so defeated as the last couple of months, she’d given up fighting. It seemed like she spent most of her days curled up waiting for her wounds to heal, and that would always be when either someone from Bea’s team or the Freak herself would notice her again and give her another beating.  
“Kim,” she started angrily, but sighed, “Just leave me alone.”

The Freak dusted her hands off, smiling to herself. She enjoyed having a human punching bag and enjoyed seeing cons learn their place. They were in this place for a reason, not for free education and pats on the back and making friends. And certainly not for special relationships with authority. She had no tolerance for the special relationship Franky had shared with the previous governor and that was like a slap in the face to someone who took pride in drawing the line between authority and scum. Franky Doyle was nothing but trouble. At least that was the case when Joan had first arrived; she had gone back to bringing drugs in and walked around the place as though she was in charge. The women had had more respect for that con than for any of the officers, or for her. The Freak didn’t like that, not at all. So she laid into Franky mentally and physically. The officers knew about it, didn’t always agree but they were almost as scared of the new management as the prisoners were. She managed to stop the drug ring that Franky was running and that lost her a fair few followers, but it was the beatings that really sent her reputation downhill. The women suspected it was Bea’s work at first, which escalated her standing in the prison (of course, Bea wasn’t going to correct this) and quickly found her to be the new top dog. By now, everyone knew it was the Freak that was giving Franky these regular beatings; she made no secret of it anymore, visiting Franky in her cell, closing the door while the other women listened to Franky trying not to scream out into pain as she threw the boot in again and again. Some of the women felt sorry for her, but even that painted as some kind of coward who needed sympathy. At first, Franky had fought back but the Freak was deceivingly strong, agile and completely brutal and soon Franky learnt to just grit her teeth and wait for it to end.

Franky lay in her bed with her newest bruises. She hardly even read anymore; partly because she didn’t see the point but mostly because the Freak had destroyed most of her books. One of the only ones she had managed to save was a book of poetry Erica had given to her, a note scrawled on the inside; thought you’d enjoy the provocativeness and satire of this, keep up the study, Erica. She kept it under her pillow now but one day, she was reading it when the Freak appeared at her doorway. She tried to hide it but it was no use, the governor snatched it out of her hands.  
“You know you’re not allowed any books, Doyle,” she said, smirking, flicking through the book to the front page with Erica’s message, “Ah, it’s from her… Well, in that case,” she smiled a most wicked grin as she ripped the page out of the book and ripped it into little pieces, throwing them in Franky’s face, “She’s not here to save you now. New management, haven’t you got that yet?”  
Franky ground her teeth, that was the last of Erica she had and it filled her with a fire, “She was ten times the governor you could ever be,” she spat. She was going to get a beating anyway, why not go out with a bang?  
The Freak’s face contorted into a snarling rage, “Let’s see, two death’s, a ruined event, a vicious top dog war, drugs… oh and fucking a con. Don’t you get it yet, Franky? She hasn’t written you, hasn’t tried to visit, hasn’t asked after you,” she continued slowly, deliberately, “She doesn’t give a shit about you. You were just her little prison bitch, some cheap experiment.”  
Franky didn’t even know how to put that defiant look in her eye she used to practice so often anymore, she felt her strength faltering, maybe because she’d wondered if what the new governor was saying was true, “Fuck you,” she managed to spit.  
The back of the Freak’s hand hit her face fast and hard enough to knock her onto her back, and she couldn’t move fast enough. That was it, once the Freak was on top of her, hitting her over and over again, there was nothing she could do but wait for it to end.  
“Hey, I got a letter for you,” Kim said.  
“I don’t get letters anymore, remember Kim?” It was true, Franky’s mail had stopped, she didn’t even have that fan mail to distract her anymore.  
“Erica was always smart, she sent it to me,” Kim said, leaning on Franky’s doorframe, smiling.  
Franky’s head snapped up at the mention of Erica’s name; nobody ever mentioned her anymore, her name was like poison, “Are you sure? Maybe it’s just…a joke?” The Freak would be cruel enough to do that.  
Kim held the letter out, “You know her writing, right?”  
Franky nodded and got up slowly, taking the opened letter tentatively from Kim’s hand and opening it. She read it quickly but it didn’t make sense at all.  
“Why do you think this is from Erica? It doesn’t make any sense at all, it’s just words,” Franky asked, frowning. It was like a letter from a stranger, talking about school and family but nothing that meant anything to Franky.  
“Read the last line, Franky,” Kim pointed it out.  
I’m still hiding.  
Franky bit her lip and traced the words with her finger, nodding. At least she was okay. But there was no return address and that drove Franky crazy and made her mad. She needed more. She needed to tell Erica what was going on, if anyone could help her out of this shitty situation it would be her. If the public knew what Wentworth had turned into, they would be appalled. But how the hell could she get in contact with Erica with no return address. She sighed. It didn’t matter, her letters would never make it out.   
“What are you thinking, Franky?” Kim asked, studying the other woman’s contemplative expression.  
“Time to swallow my pride, grab Boomer, would you?”

Franky approached Bea, flanked at the shoulders by Kim and Boomer.  
“What do you want, Franky?” Bea asked coldly. She’d never forgiven the younger woman for not taking her seriously about the danger her daughter was in.  
“Do you like the way things are in here?” Franky asked evenly.  
“What, me at the top, you at the bottom?” The top dog smirked, “Suits me just fine.”  
Franky nodded, “Right. And the restrictions, spending twenty hours a day in our cells? The punishments? I mean, I know I’m taking the brunt of it – “  
“Sacrifice,” Bea waved a hand dismissively.  
“Oh come on,” Franky said angrily, but forced herself to keep her cool, “I know your girls are getting it too, not as much as me but what about the peer worker program? Gone. Education. Gone. The food is worse than ever, constant spot checks with no warning, no grounds.”  
“What’s your point, Franky?”  
Franky swallowed, “I need your help.”  
The chattering that was going on behind Bea stopped, it seemed everybody’s eye were on the pair now, some smirking, some looking confused, Kim and Boomer looking nervous; as usual Franky hadn’t let them in on her plan.  
Bea looked apprehensive, measuring up Franky with her eyes, “You can’t change what happens in here. You can’t even get mail in or out and who would listen to you… Oh,” it hit her, “Nobody knows where she is, Franky. You need to move on, your dear governor isn’t going to save any of us now.”  
Franky gritted her teeth, “One of the officers, they might have a forwarding address.”  
“She left us to rot here,” Bea stood up, moving herself closer to Franky, intimidatingly so.  
“That’s not true,” Franky shot back, “She was kicked out.”  
Kim put a hand on Franky’s arm but Franky shook her off. Bea’s eyes narrowed, as did most of the listening crowd, “Oh yeah, and why would she be kicked out?” They all knew the answer, but Franky had never admitted it, no matter how hard they kicked or punched, or took away her privileges.  
Franky could feel the eyes on her; things could hardly get worse than they were now, “We slept together,” she managed to get out quietly enough for only Bea to hear.  
“Sorry, what was that?” Bea asked, a little louder, looking around her then back at the squirming woman in front of her.  
Franky looked away for a second, but looked back and said loudly enough for everyone to hear, “We slept together.”  
Bea shook her head, smiling, giving Franky a small push, “So much for being on our side,” she gestured to the growing crowd who were surging forward until Bea put up a warning hand.  
“I’m trying to be now, she can help us – “  
“She’s not a fucking guardian angel,” Bea spat.  
Franky swallowed, trying to keep her composure, “Bea, think about it. If she could get out to the public about the shit that’s going on here, I mean you’re fucking Will Jackson didn’t open his mouth, did he? She has connections, she was always in the media, think about it.”  
“What do you need from me?” Bea said; it did kind of make sense, if it was a tad optimistic. But Will had left after only a month of the Freak as had a bunch of the officers who didn’t agree with her ways and it was only after that that the brutal beatings had really started.  
“You still write Jackson, right? Get him to track down Erica, I just need her address, that’s all. I’ll do the rest,” Franky realised she was basically pleading, but this could be her last chance. Who knew if she’d even make her sentence of another five years at this rate? There was no way she’d get parole in just over a year if the Freak was still in charge. Plus hearing from Erica had reignited her fight, just a little bit.  
Bea thought about it for a moment, “You’re not allowed to send or receive mail. Everyone knows that.”  
“She sent me a letter, through Kim in a kind of code,” Franky admitted, “I’ll send it out the same way.”  
Bea looked at Kim, “Well you’re awfully tolerant, Kim, for someone whose been cheated by this scum.”  
Kim shrugged, “It could work, Bea. What else are we going to do?”  
Bea nodded, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Bea turned up at Franky’s cell one morning with a slip of paper.  
“Don’t get your hopes up,” she threw it at Franky and walked away.  
Now Franky had to be smart. She scrawled the letter quickly, telling Erica everything, the Freak, the beatings, how she picked on Franky, how Bea was top dog, how they were locked in their cells for the majority of the days, nobody was allowed education, the food was worse than ever, her privileges were suspended indefinitely, everything. Now she just had to pick the right officer to get it out.

“Miss Bennet,” Franky ran up to the officer in the yard.  
“Franky,” she nodded, “What is it?”  
“I need a favour,” Franky stated.  
Vera sighed; what was it with prisoners always coming to her for favours, “No, Franky.”  
Franky grabbed her arm as she moved away, letting go quickly, “Sorry. I just…,” she looked at the ground before looking up at Vera, tears making her eyes look like glass, “I need to get a letter out. Come on, no outside contact for six months, it’s not right. You know it’s not.”  
Vera was taken aback, Franky had been beaten and down lately, but now she was nearly crying in the middle of the yard, in front of an officer, “Ask the governor to reinstate your privelages then,” she said firmly.  
“You know she won’t, she hates me. Come on, nobody else is on as harsh restrictions as I am,” Franky pleaded.  
“Then ask one of them to send it,” Vera snapped back quietly.  
“I can’t, they could still check it and it won’t get out if they do,” Franky admitted.  
Then the governor was at Franky’s side, “Time to go back to your cell, Doyle. Stop annoying the officers,” she said, leading Franky away by the elbow as she cast one last look at Vera, begging with her eyes. Vera had a conscience, she knew it, and she was impressionable, it just depended which side got to her first.   
Vera tapped a pen on the table anxiously. Of course she didn’t like the way things were around here but she needed this job, to take care of herself, her mother. She didn’t like the interview process truth be told, that’s why she stayed at Wentworth for so long. She’d never liked Erica’s way of doing things but she’d much rather her than the Freak’s unrelenting way of running a prison. But she kept her mouth quiet and did as she was told. Until she stood up and decided to go and see Franky while they had their last hour free until they were locked in their cells for the night, starting at 3pm.  
Franky was curled up on the bed, her pillow, her sheets all stained with blood. Her eye was already bruising and bloodshot. She looked small, pathetic. She let tears run down her cheeks as she ground her teeth together, hard. She could taste the blood in her mouth and stumbled to the toilet to spit it out, before collapsing on the floor, too weak to even get back into her bed.  
“Franky, Franky.”  
She must have passed out, because next thing she knew there was a hand on her shoulder – didn’t they know that fucking hurt, and she could hear a woman’s voice quietly, getting louder. She opened her eyes with difficulty, trying to blink the blurriness away. She was a mess, she could feel hard, caked blood all over her face, her neck. Once her vision came back in to focus and she saw it was Vera who was offering an arm and helping her onto the bed.  
“God, this is what she does to you?” Vera couldn’t keep the horror out of her voice as she looked at the door as she began to clean Franky up.  
“You don’t have to…I can,” Franky made to take the tissue out of Vera’s hand but she was too weak, she lay back.  
Vera cleaned her up in silence, the last thing she did was check Franky’s knuckles then look at her, “You didn’t fight back?”  
Franky shrugged, “For a couple of months. Then there was really no point.”  
Vera frowned; she’d known Franky was receiving the worst treatment of the woman, getting beatings but the governor of the prison beating a prisoner to a pulp like this? How could she ignore that?  
“Where’s the letter?” she asked quietly.  
Franky blinked quickly, she reached into her pillow slip and pulled it out. Vera looked at the address, of course it was Erica. Even now, she was having an influence on this particular prisoner. She turned it over and opened it.  
“Don’t read it, doesn’t that just make it worse?” Franky asked, trying to sit up.  
Vera ignored her and read the letter. It was all true; she couldn’t disagree with a single thing. She thought for a moment as she folded it back up and put it in the envelope re-sealing it.  
“I’ll make sure she gets it,” she said, “You really should go to medical.”

Erica grabbed her mail out of the letterbox and flipped through it as she made her way to the door. She had been hoping against hope to see that… That handwriting. There was no mistaking it, she’d know Franky Doyle’s handwriting anywhere. She put her bag down and opened the letter. What she read was horrible. The new Wentworth, Franky called it. And it was not the Wentworth that Erica had started to build. Worse than that, the beatings, how could anybody call themselves a governor, claim they were doing what was best for the women by treating them like animals? Erica sighed – many people asked the same of her though; how could she claim she was working in the interests of the women while having relations with one of them? Not that it had ever been proven; hence why Erica was still on this side of the fence, but she had been ‘asked to leave’ while an investigation took place. It never turned anything up though, Franky was good at being discreet and loyal until the end, which made Erica feel guilty as hell now. She was sure she would be part of the reason that Joan Ferguson was being so hard on her. Franky begged for Erica’s help in that letter, as if she needed to. Erica had known Franky would miss her and probably pine for her, but this was so much more serious than just the two of them. It was time to come out of hiding. She booked a ticket back to Melbourne that night.


	2. The Break's Over.

Vera didn’t bother to approach Franky, just nodded to her from a distance before moving on. That gave Franky hope; Erica wouldn’t stay away now, she wouldn’t let Franky take beating after beating. What she’d do exactly, Franky didn’t know, but she was a conniving, manipulative woman and she would do something and that had to be better than the nothing everyone was doing at the moment. Erica was the only woman Franky had ever had faith in and that hadn’t changed in the six months of absence.

Erica’s first instinct was to go straight to Wentworth and give a piece of her mind to Joan Ferguson but she had more brains and more control than that. If she went there all guns blazing now, without a solid plan, nobody would listen to her at a later date. Plus she had to make sure she didn’t make this all about Franky; the media would love it, sure, but if they thought she only cared about the woman she was accused of having an affair with, her actions would be futile. Of course, Franky was her driving force, she had been for a long time now, but she had never lied when she said she cared about the women and the state of the prison system. Really, Franky had just got in her way. 

“Derek, I’d like to meet with you if have time,” she said to Channing; one good thing about leaving Wentworth that she’d left this sleaze behind but he still had to be better than the new governor, plus she knew Channing liked her and maybe it was time to use that to her advantage. Who says Franky Doyle had never taught her anything?

“I was surprised to hear from you, Erica, it’s been a while,” Channing gestured for Erica to take a seat opposite him as he poured a drink, that same old smile playing on his lips as he looked at the governor. Really Derek Channing was just a big teenager with a few more brain cells; after all, he knew how to not get caught with his ‘distractions’ and Erica definitely distracted him.  
“Well,” Erica said slowly, “I’m surprised you’ve let Wentworth get into the condition it’s in.”  
Channing looked surprised, “There hasn’t been an incident at Wentworth since the new management took over, Erica. In fact I would say it’s been refreshing.”  
“Only because everyone’s too scared to speak out against Joan Ferguson,” Erica replied crisply, “Do you seriously not know what’s going on?”  
“What I know Erica is that I have a lot of work to do, and if Ferguson doesn’t need to call me in every month to tell me about another murder or drug incident then that just gives me time to do other things,” Channing shrugged. It was true, his job had been a lot less stressful since Erica left. He had much more time to focus on other things; his marriage was going well despite his… indiscretions, he was no longer having to take piles over paperwork home every night and had weekends work free. That had never been the case with Wentworth in the past; murders of both staff and inmates, constant turf wars that led to incidents of serious violence, some of the most serious drug issues that women’s prisons were seeing… No, it was nice to have a governor on deck who could handle the women on her own.  
Nice work ethic, is what Erica wanted to snap back, “Derek, I received a letter from someone inside Wentworth detailing the going’s on there and I’ve got to tell you it sounds… well, it sounds shameful.”  
“Let me guess, Franky Doyle?” he raised his eyebrows.  
Erica sighed, “Yes,” she admitted, “But that’s beside the point, Derek. Just look at it,” she pulled the letter out of her bag and held it out. She sat silently as Channing took it apprehensively and read it.  
He sighed, “She seems to hold a lot of faith that you can do something about this. Nobody’s heard from you in months and the thing that gets you back to Melbourne is a letter from Franky Doyle; that’s not a good look, Erica.”  
“I understand that, Derek, but if what she’s saying is true, is that really something you want to get into the media?” the ex governor laced her voice that threatening edge, “I don’t think that would be a good look either,” she said steadily.  
“Are you threatening me, Erica?” Channing almost sounded amused, but of course, inside his head was spinning; if there was any truth to this (and if he was honest with himself, he had no idea if it was but he did know that there had been a high turnover rate in the first month or so of the new governor’s reign, in particular Will Jackson’s departure of the prison after over ten years of loyalty was sudden and bitter; his reasons were that he didn’t get along with the new management’s methods and this now sounded like something he should have been worried about) he was in big trouble.  
“I’m giving you a choice, I’m not going to keep quiet about this,” she took the letter out of Channing’s hands, “It’s a disgrace. And quite honestly, it’s disappointing after the effort I thought we,” she chose that word carefully and accompanied it with a small smile, “had put in to change the image of women’s prison.”

“No news from your guardian angel, then?” Bea said smugly, though of course, she had been hoping there had been some news.  
Franky shrugged; it had been three days since she had the letter sent, that is assuming that Vera had actually sent it, “No, but I don’t know, I guess it could take some time.”  
“Optimistic,” Bea replied patronisingly.   
“She’ll do something,” Franky was still solid on that stance; if Erica got that letter, she wouldn’t just leave her to rot.  
Another beating dampened her attitude a little. It was hard to be optimistic when your blood was mixing with your tears all over your face. She clambered under the covers and closed her eyes.  
“Franky, you’re going to want to see this,” Boomer called out from the common room.  
Kim appeared at her side, helping her out of bed, “She got your letter.”  
Franky looked at her eye wide-eyed and rushed to the common room. There was the whole unit watching Erica on the tv, “Turn it up.”  
They turned to look at her and obliged. The story was the old governor was back in town making a fuss about the changes and conditions of Wentworth since she had left. Her media connections were clearly intact; she still had favours owed, apparently. It was a short stint, but it was something. Hopefully the start of something.


	3. Rebuilding.

Of course, the Freak wasn’t happy but she kind of dug herself deeper. Her first move was to give her favourite prisoner a visit in her cell and give her a beating. But Franky was done taking it and fought back. In an instant, she had got on top and slammed the Freak up against the wall, but was knocked so hard on the temple, she didn’t even know where it came from and landed on the ground, her head thumping. She swore and pushed herself onto her hands, watching the Freak being hauled away by officers.

Just like that, the investigation was in full swing. Kim had done Franky one last favour; alerting Vera to the beating she knew would come and Franky was right in thinking the officer had enough of a conscience, and enough brains to bring some of the other officers along with her. Every officer was questioned, prisoners too and usually, a prisoners word wasn’t regarded too highly, but there was no denying the similarities between stories, and the stories were beyond horrific.

“I do thank you, Erica for bringing this to my attention and you know I apologise wholeheartedly for your quick dismissal,” Channing started, “I mean, you do know the position is once again being filled by Vera Bennett temporarily but we all know she’s not up to the job permanently.”  
Erica could have almost laughed at the way Channing was squirming, but she simply remained silent, waiting for Channing to make his point.  
“Look, Erica, we would be more than happy for you to be reinstated as governor of Wentworth, take off where you left off? I mean, the prison needs a strong personality now like you, it needs to rebuild and it needs someone with passion, somebody who wants to make a difference,” god, he was selling it, “And of course the communication to the media,” he smiled, “which we all know you’re fantastic at. I do believe, we could, together,” that smile was never not smarmy, “rebuild Wentworth, get back into the direction that you spoke about so passionately when you first clawed your way into the position. What do you think?”  
Erica remained silent for a few moments, “I appreciate that, Derek, I do, but this isn’t a decision that I can make lightly. After all that’s happened, I’m not sure Wentworth and I are the best fit anymore,” she said cautiously; it was true, she didn’t know if she wanted to come back to this place, “I need to work with people who trust my instincts and decisions and to be honest, I didn’t have a whole lot of that here.”  
“I understand that Erica but honestly, after seeing the way I thought I wanted a prison run, and how horrific it can get when you give people that kind of power, I understand more now than I did, where you were coming from. Anyway, I don’t want to rush you into a decision, I understand it’s a difficult one, but here,” he pushed a piece of paper over to Erica’s side of the desk, “Just look over the contract, you’ll notice some changes to your pay – “  
“Derek, it’s not about the money,” Erica interjected.  
“I know that, but it never hurts, does it?” he smiled that smile again, “Anyway, just keep in touch and let me know. It’s really not easy to find someone who can govern a prison, I know you know this, these women need you,” he finished his last sales pitch.  
Erica nodded, hesitating for only a second before saying, “I do need one thing before I go.”  
Channing raised his eyebrows.  
“I would like to see Franky Doyle.”

“Doyle, governor’s office.”  
Franky used to love hearing those words, then she dreaded them when the Freak had taken over, now it was just Vera; god knows what she wanted but maybe, if Franky asked really nicely, she’d get another letter to Erica for her. I mean, it wasn’t like Franky had expected her to swoop in, save the day and break her out of this place so they could run away together, but she just would have liked to see Erica, but she knew that wasn’t possible.  
“Erica,” she breathed upon entering the room, she tried not to smile too widely.  
“Ten minutes,” Channing said sternly, closing the door behind him.  
Franky watched him closely and rushed over to Erica as soon as the door closed, she stopped nervously in front of her though until Erica pulled her into a hug.  
“Come here, you,” Erica said, pulling back and running her hand over the prisoner’s bruised eye, scarred lip, she sighed, “What did she do to you?” she muttered guiltily, “I wish I’d got here sooner.”  
“You’re here now, are you coming back?” Franky asked, hopefully.  
Erica closed her eyes for a few seconds, “No, no I can’t come back, Franky.”  
“Why not?” Franky pressed.  
“You know why, Franky. I slept with a prisoner, I can hardly be the governor after that.”  
Franky nodded, “Yeah, but nobody really knows, right? It’s just speculation – “  
“Oh, Franky. Everybody knows, it’s true isn’t it? Which means at some point it’s going to come out, that’s what happens in this place,” Erica threw up her hands.  
Franky hung her head, “Yeah, I guess,” she sighed, “I mean…I kind of admitted it to the women… to get a favour out of Bea to get your address and all,” she admitted, measuring Erica closely for her reaction.  
Erica nodded, “Well there it is, I can’t come back to Wentworth, Franky,” she put a hand on the prisoner’s face, “And if it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I’d want to anyway.”  
Franky smiled, “But what now?” she pushed past the lump in her throat.  
Erica kissed the prisoner on the lips hard at first, but then softly until she broke away, “I don’t know,” she whispered, “I’ll try and visit, I’ll see you when you get out.”  
Franky nodded, “I guess that’ll do,” she heard the door click and stepped backwards, making the space between the two women a little more acceptable.

“Time,” Channing cleared his throat, flitting his eyes from woman to woman; there was now no doubt in his mind that this was more than a prisoner-governor relationship and that Erica Davidson could never return to Wentworth prison.  
“You’d already made up your mind before our conversation earlier,” Channing realised.  
Erica nodded, “I can’t come back to Wentworth,” she confirmed, “And I understand if you feel the need to take things – “  
Channing waved a hand, “I would only be a hypocrite, wouldn’t I? After all, I gave you advice on your…distraction with Franky, didn’t I? I could put you through the ringer, you know that technically it’s a crime, but just stay out of the prison service and we’ll leave it at that, Erica. All the best,” he extended a hand, “And thank you, again.”

Erica took a deep breath; it was a relief of a kind to stop pretending. She was lucky and she knew that. She’d done Channing a huge favour by stepping in when she did and could have landed him in a lot more shit than she had and thankfully, he was intelligent enough to realise that, and realise that he owed Erica. And Franky…well, maybe in a few weeks, or months she could try and visit but it was beyond complicated. She did only have over a year to go until her parole though; Erica just hoped the next governor to take over Wentworth knew what they were doing and could see in Franky, what Erica saw.

But for now, she had some rebuilding of her own to do, she had already broken off her engagement, was in the process of moving into a flat in Melbourne and now it looked like she would be looking for a new career too, though of course, she was determined not to go back to her father’s company. She would find something new, something that excited her, something that lit that passion that, thanks to Wentworth, she knew she had inside her.


End file.
